Guest Drabbles
by cryptonomicon
Summary: Drabbles written in relation to the 100 & 200 drabble sets by guest authors.
1. 1: Donated by Ink on Ice

**Rotten**

Ichigo and Toshiro stood side by side, shoulders brushing lightly, gazing down into the peacefully sleeping face of their daughter. Mikan's tiny, cherubic face scrunched itself up into a concerted frown, tiny wrinkles running across her porcelain skin before smoothing out once more and relaxing into easy sleep, her infant fingers opening and closing over the soft blanket tucked around her.

"She reminds me of you when you're sleeping," Ichigo commented softly, reaching down and stroking her little check with a finger the length of her arm.

"Oh?" his spouse inquired, equally quiet, one pale eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"She's so quiet and still," Ichigo explained, "but not like she's waiting for anything. Just peaceful. Relaxed."

"Ah," Toshiro replied, stretching his hand out to caress his daughter's two-tone hair. "Yes, I suppose that makes sense."

Mikan stretched beneath their hands, yawning as widely as her small mouth would allow, before blinking blearily up at her fathers, her stunning teal eyes, still clouded with sleep, searching curiously for their familiar shapes.

"Hey, gorgeous," Ichigo greeted her, a smile tugging relentlessly at the corners of his mouth, the same dopey grin he knew came onto his face whenever he saw her. "Have a nice nap?"

He reached both hands down to pick her up just as the door to their home burst open as though propelled by a kick.

"How could you?" The intruder bellowed, straddling the doorframe with an action-ready pose as familiar to Ichigo as the store-front of his family's clinic.

"Dad?" he asked, stupefied. Beside him Toshiro reared back in surprise, but removed his hand from Hyorinmaru's hilt.

"Of course it's me," his father answered, stepping fully into their home and approaching the pair, looking them up and down. "Where else would I be after discovering that my only son has finally given me a _grandbaby_?"

Ichigo started, then cringed slightly guiltily as Toshiro examined him incredulously.

"You didn't tell you father we had a child?" his spouse asked, astounded.

"Yeah," Ichigo demurred, "Well, we had so much going on. I was going to, but-"

"No buts!" Isshin Kurosaki declared. He strode over, looking entirely as though he were about to give Ichigo the talking to of his life, before he caught sight of the little girl lying wide awake, but utterly still behind them. Stepping past his son entirely, he scooped her up in on easy motion, cradling her to his chest and rocking her to and fro.

"Oh, who is going to be grandpa's little princess? Who is the most beautiful little girl in the world?" he all but crooned, sweeping little Mikan all around the room.

Her father's watched his antics, Ichigo with alarm and continued shell-shock, Toshiro with veiled amusement.

"You know," the white haired captain said to his spouse, "he's going to spoil her rotten."

* * *

This was written by my dear friend Ink on Ice, because I've gotten her addicted to the pairing. Huzzah for being an evil, yet modestly convincing bitch.


	2. 2: Donated by Corisanna

**Genetics**

Unmitigated fluff inspired by 200 Days "Heir."

When Mikan's son is placed in her arms for the first time, she instantly falls in love with his every little feature. From his ten little fingers and ten little toes to his little button nose, everything is perfect. When he briefly opens his eyes and displays the pale blue of her husband's own eyes, she is thrilled. However, if she had to choose a favorite feature it would be his hair. Logically, she knows it's simply he vagaries of genetics at work. But when she looks at that snowy Hitsugaya white, she can't help but see it as a blessing and imagine her mama in the room with her. She pictures him smiling that gentle, loving smile that would so soften his serious face and whispering, "You did well. I'm proud of you. He is beautiful. I love you both." She feels wrapped in love, and wraps that love around her son in turn since her mama isn't there to do so himself. She is determined to be as wonderful a mother to her son as her mama was to her, to love her child so thoroughly that he will be able to feel that love like a lingering embrace long after she herself is gone. It's a tall order to fill, but she is a Kurosaki- she can't help but throw herself into achieving great feats. If she can achieve this goal of passing on the legacy of her parents' love- and she has a fierce resolve that she _will_- it will be her greatest success. Nothing else could possibly compare.

* * *

This was written by Corisanna, as stated in response to "Heir" featured in set 17 of 200 Days of Our Lives. Ironically a set they also donated.


	3. 3: Donated by Corisanna

**Just Wait**

Ichigo was incredibly proud of his daughter's quick acquisition of language skills. Mikan's first word came somewhat early, and her rate of new words acquired was rather high. It became a regular game for him to grin gleefully and follow Mikan as she first crawled then unsteadily toddled around the house pointing at things and saying the associated word. If she pointed at something and turned to look at him with her brow crinkled in confusion, he would say the word a few times, then she would stare at the object very seriously and try to say the word before moving on. She almost always remembered the new word the next time they played, even if she couldn't quite pronounce it. Toshiro would watch their linguistic adventures with amusement, then smile indulgently as Ichigo recounted everything their little girl had done as though Toshiro hadn't been right there the whole time. "I'm so proud!" he'd gush. "I'm so glad she got your brains, Toshiro!" Toshiro's response would almost always be a little smirk whose meaning Ichigo could never quite decipher.

Then Mikan grasped the concept of stringing words together.

"Sky! Blue! Blue sky!"

Then Mikan grasped the concept of verbal questions.

"Why sky blue?"

"Why-?"

"Why-?"

Then Ichigo grasped the meaning of that smirk.

"Why did she have to get your brains, Toshiro?"

**Not Just Because**

One Saturday morning, the little family was sitting around the kitchen table eating their breakfasts. Mikan liked to play with her food, so Ichigo and Toshiro were done long before her. Toshiro smiled contently as he read the paper, occasionally glancing up at Mikan and pushing her clear sippy cup of apple juice away from the edge as she pushed the two slices of peeled apple that remained of her breakfast around the tray of her high chair. Ichigo cleared the table and washed the dishes before returning with green tea for Toshiro and coffee for himself, ruffling his daughter's hair before sitting down. He sat back and watched Mikan pick up a browning slice of apple and turn it about while staring at it intently before putting it back down and looking at the other slice. She turned over the second slice, exposing an underside that hadn't started to brown yet. She frowned, then replaced it the way it had been, fresher side down. Then she looked at her cup.

Ichigo smiled. "Hey, gorgeous. You gonna finish your breakfast?"

Mikan blinked owlishly at her father, then looked back to her tray. She pointed at her cup. "Papa, why yellow?"

Ichigo blinked. "Uh, because... apple juice is yellow?"

"Why?"

"Uh..." Ichigo glanced at Toshiro for help, and found him to be calmly sipping his tea while ostensibly ignoring his plight.

Mikan made what was supposed to be a scowl but ended up looking like a pout. She pointed to the apple slices. "Papa, appul white, no yellow!" She jabbed her finger at her cup, rather annoyed. "Iss appul. Why yellow?" When Ichigo just stared at her, she huffed and kicked her little legs once before demanding, "Why?"

Ichigo floundered about trying to come up with an answer- he vaguely guessed it had to do with some scientific chemical reaction thing, but how were you supposed to explain that to a toddler? He looked to Toshiro once more and found him still "obliviously" sipping his tea. At a loss, he fell back on an answer that he already knew would fail spectacularly.

"Because it just is."

Ichigo heard Toshiro snort softly before Mikan screeched unhappily, kicked her legs, and quite forcefully pushed her cup off her tray. Ichigo cringed and barely managed to catch it before it hit the floor. As he righted himself, he heard Toshiro put down his paper.

"Mimi." The shrieking and kicking stopped as Mikan focused on Toshiro with a fierce scowl. "Don't throw things. It's naughty." Her scowl devolved into a sulk. "When someone can't answer a question, you ask someone else who might know. Do you understand?" She still looked a bit mutinous, but nodded and tucked a thumb into her mouth. "Papa couldn't answer your question. Do you want to try asking me?" She brightened a bit and nodded. "Well, what do you want to know?"

Mikan pointed at the cup in her father's hand. "Mama, why yellow?"

Toshiro scooted his chair closer to the high chair and leaned in close. He pointed to the apple slices. "See the apple turning brown?" Mikan nodded. "The insides of apples don't like air and turn brown." Mikan opened her mouth- probably to ask why yet again- when Toshiro grinned and added, "Kind of like how Mama and Papa don't like Auntie Hime's cooking, so our faces turn funny colors when she gives it to us." This playful pseudo-explanation served its purpose as a distraction and earned him a giggle. "People squish apples to make juice." He used his thumbnail to crush the apple slices. "That makes more of the apple touch the air, and it all turns brown."

"Oh." Mikan blinked and stared for a moment, thinking. She frowned in confusion. "Butbutbut, why yellow?"

Toshiro returned to squishing the apple slices. "See how there's stuff besides juice when I squish it?" Mikan nodded. "People take away everything but the juice so it doesn't have stuff floating in it."

"Why?"

"Because it will taste better longer and people think it looks pretty. And if you leave all the stuff, there's more stuff than juice and you have applesauce. You can't drink applesauce."

"Oh." Another pause. "But why yellow? Iss b'own."

"Well..." Toshiro stopped and hummed in thought. He glanced about, looking for something to help him explain. "Just a minute, Mimi. I think I can show you."

He stood, went to the kitchen, and began rummaging about. He gathered his kyusu*, a small white teacup, and his container of good loose-leaf shincha** that Ichigo was not allowed to touch- Toshiro was very particular about its preparation*** and insisted that if Ichigo wanted to make him tea, he could use a tea bag. He poured some of the hot water left from when Ichigo made his earlier cup of tea into the kyusu, and from the kyusu to the teacup, then scooped some tea leaves into the kyusu and poured the water from the cup into the kyusu in his own particular fashion. He put the lid on the kyusu, then put away the shincha and carried the kyusu, the cup, and a towel with him as he returned to his place near Mikan. He put the kyusu and cup on the table and let the tea steep a moment as he used the towel to wipe the browned apple mush from Mikan's tray, Mikan and Ichigo both watching his every move.

Toshiro picked up the kyusu, then took off the lid and put it on the table. "Now, look at the tea," he said as he held the open kyusu in front of Mikan, who peered into it at the dark green contents. "The leaves are dark green, and the water looks green, too, right?" Mikan nodded. Toshiro backed away and carefully poured the tea into the cup. "But when you look at the tea without the dark stuff in it, it looks light, and more yellow than green. See?" He held the cup of tea where Mikan could see it. "Having the dark stuff in the tea makes it look darker, and when you take it out it looks lighter." He returned the tea to the kyusu and showed it to her again, before pouring it into the cup and showing her the drinkable tea once more.

Mikan stared in fascination. "Oh!"

Toshiro put down the kyusu and teacup and made eye contact with her. "Do you understand?"

Mikan smiled sunnily at him. "Yes!"

Toshiro grinned. "Good!" He picked up Mikan, carrying her toward the sink to wash the stickiness of her breakfast adventures from her hands and face. "I answered your question, Mimi. What do you say?"

"Oh! Sankuu, Mama!" With that, Mikan gave him an enthusiastic hug and a very sloppy, very sticky apple-kiss on the cheek.

"You're welcome," Toshiro laughed. He finished washing her hands and face, then put her down and watched her trot away. He turned to look at his husband as he wiped his sticky cheek. Ichigo, who had watched the whole scene in something akin to awe, was openly gaping at him. He looked rather ridiculous, holding a sippy cup and wearing a flabberghasted facial expression. Toshiro raised a brow as he sat at the table and sipped at the shincha. "What?"

Ichigo snapped out of his trance and favored him with an admiring grin. "You should've been a teacher, Toshiro."

"You think so?" Toshiro smirked into his tea. "Why?"

* * *

-For more information regarding the tea preparation references made in this chapter, consult the following broken up links, provided by Corisanna for your convenience. And, just because I know some of you may be confused as to how to submit a guest drabble (because has a character limit on private messages), you can just email me the document (txt or doc/docx is fine) at crypto(underscore)akira(at)live(dot)com. Grrr for not being able to hyperlink. If need be, I will also post a link on my profile as well if that would make things easier for you guys. Anyway, thanks to Corisanna for these adorable little drabbles, and I'll see you biffles soon for Burn to Black's update later this week!

8-90s love,

crypto

* ht tp: / en. wikipedia. org/wiki/Kyusu  
** ht tp: / en. wikipedia. org/wiki/Shincha  
*** ht tp: / ww w. youtube. com / watch? v = clnHo6ttXkU


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